searched her brother’s face. Was he somehow in cahoots with Jack? “Why isn’t Amanda in D.C.? I thought Congress was in session this week.”
“Now that she’s on the Foreign Relations Committee, she has to come to New York periodically for meetings at the UN. She ended up staying late last night and doesn’t have to be back at the Capitol until Monday. I won’t be on the road until next weekend, so J.J. and I drove up to see her.”
“How about it, Katie?” Jack asked. “Would you like to come over to my apartment and see J.J.?”
“Can I, Mommy?”
That clinched it for Meg. Not only was he making mincemeat of the conditions she’d set, he was using Katie to do it. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we need to go straight home tonight. Maybe some other time.”
Bram held the door open for them. “Amanda and I get so few opportunities to see the two of you, Meg. What’s the rush?”
“There’s no rush. I’m just tired, that’s all. It’s been a long day.”
“You don’t want to make it longer by riding a commuter bus back to Jersey with Katie on your lap,” countered Bram. “Jack keeps a car here in town. I’ll drive you home after the traffic dies down.”
“Or you and Katie are welcome to spend the night at my place,” Jack offered. “I’ll drive you home tomorrow myself. How’s that for service?”
“Spending the night is definitely out,” Meg retorted flatly.
Bram put a companionable arm around her shoulders. “Come on, honey. Have dinner with us. Put your feet up for a while, say hello to Amanda and J.J., and give yourself a little R and R.”
“Please, Mommy?” Katie asked, tugging Meg’s hand. “I want to play with J.J.”
Meg glanced pointedly at Jack. “We can’t stay very long. I want to make that clear.”
Jack raised his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say, Meg.”
Whatever you say, my eye. Meg faced her brother. “Katie and I will need to leave right after dinner.”
“No problem,” replied Bram. “I’ll have you home in record time.”
It turned out Jack lived in Midtown, only a few blocks away. Judging by the historic stonework on his apartment building, it dated back to the turn of the century and had been restored to its original grandeur. A doorman jumped to usher “Mr. Tarkenton and his guests” inside. The security guard monitoring the lobby treated him with unusual familiarity, greeting both Jack and Bram by name.
The old-fashioned cage of an elevator was manned by a uniformed operator. She asked if Katie wanted to help pull the lever that closed the fancy ironwork doors. Of course, Katie did, and when Jack pointed at the floor numbers above the elevator doors, she counted up with him in unison.
Studying his profile, Meg tried to assess his motives. She hadn’t expected him to barge into her life again this soon. Clearly he was trying to get to Katie. Clearly he wasn’t above using Bram, Amanda and J.J. to do it. But why now?
The elevator doors clanged open, revealing a living room so large, the main floor of her house could have fit inside it. His so-called apartment took up the entire penthouse floor.
“Katie!”
Three-year-old J.J. catapulted from his seat on the thick dove gray carpet. Amanda rescued the playing cards that scattered in his wake and rose herself, barefoot in blue jeans and a fuzzy mohair sweater that gave her a girlish air despite the classic French twist of her blond hair. “Meg,” she said, extending her hands. “I’m so glad you and Katie could make it.”
Smiling, Meg caught those hands, and they kissed each other cheek to cheek, as the French did, engendering a nostalgic pang for the culture of her beloved France.
Amanda scooped Katie up. “My goodness, Miss Katie. When did you start getting so grown-up?”
J.J. excitedly jumped up and down, tugging on Katie’s dress. “Katie, Katie, Katie,” he chanted.
“Hey, sport, how about we give our special guests a chance to come inside.” Jack zoomed J.J. across the room as if he were an airplane.
It didn’t appear to be put on for her benefit, but Meg still suspected Jack’s motives. If nothing else, this visit would allow her to see how he handled the children.
His decorative tastes ran toward the traditional, for the apartment was furnished in the same style as his Wall Street office. Mahogany and cherry wood predominated, with upholstered pieces in cream or gold brocade. Glazed lemon yellow, the walls were trimmed by white molding that framed tall windows filmy with sheer drapes.
Amanda led the way to a pair of overstuffed sofas and invited Meg to sit down. The butler’s table between them was covered by a thick towel, heaped high with toy cars and trucks. “Nice child-proofing,” Meg noted.
“Isn’t it, though? Fortunately, Jack doesn’t mind. J.J., would you like to show Katie your cars?”
J.J. came running. “My cars!”
Bram slowed him, saving a collision with the table, and gathered up the ends of the towel, sacking the toys. “I think the children and I will retire to the entertainment room,” he said, exchanging amused looks with his wife. “If I’m not mistaken, a certain purple dinosaur is making an appearance on our favorite television channel.”
Amanda clasped her hands and put them over her heart. “You have earned my eternal gratitude, dear husband. Let me know when reinforcements are required.”
Seeing their obvious love and affection for each other brought a lump to Meg’s throat. She had never met a woman more secure with who she was and what she wanted than Amanda. Her brother was just as headstrong. Yet they served as perfect foils for each other, sharing a partnership so strong, Meg had to look away.
Her gaze touched on Jack, with his inscrutable expression and idle stance. If she did marry him, it would be at the cost of such happiness. At least when she married Allen, she had been operating under the youthful delusion that given time, she would come to love her husband. She knew better now.
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